


The Hanged Man as The Rigger

by INeedMoreHadesBeforeISwoon



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Aftercare, Big Brat Energy, Bondage, Chest Hair, Claiming Bites, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom Julian Devorak, Dom/sub, F/M, Female Apprentice (The Arcana), Feral Behavior, First fic for this fandom, Gags, Growling, Hair-pulling, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Spanking, Squirting, Switching, Teeth, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, come on command, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INeedMoreHadesBeforeISwoon/pseuds/INeedMoreHadesBeforeISwoon
Summary: A by-request for a dear friend -Dom Julian, for a change, with all the good-good the Doc can do for a bratty lil apprentice.This is for you, Rissa....
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	The Hanged Man as The Rigger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rissaleigh49](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rissaleigh49/gifts).



> Warnings for the following themes within:
> 
> mega top-dom energy from a situational switch  
> a multitude of kinks, including Julian's chest hair (who isn't thirsty for that?) [see tags list for full deets]  
> a fuck-ton of fluids and fukken
> 
> Written by request for my bestie and Lore Olympus beta/co-writer, she who thirsts for the birbman always. Enjoy, feeshy-mine.

Aine gasped desperately past the fabric gagging her, her breasts swaying back and forth on her chest as her hips writhed and squirmed around the stretching, searching fingers buried to the hilt in her pussy. The thick band of cloth in her mouth smelled of him, and she remembered how hard she’d clenched around nothing when Julian unwound the tasselled sash from his waist and bound it around her head, forcing her mouth open and stroking her jaw with supple fingertips as he pulled away.

The hunger in his stormy eye had stolen what breath from her lungs the gag had still allowed her.

Those soft fingers were hard now, pushing and prodding inside her body with the skill of a musician and the strength of an apothecarist, seeking out her most sensitive places with precision. She’d climaxed already, but Julian wanted more, and his hunger, his desire to see her submit to his ministrations for far longer than she was used to: it was infectious, contagious, a plague with only one source and only one cure….

She clenched again as he found a spot inside of her that shot a bolt of lightning down her leg, curling her toes and putting a writhing  _ slink _ in her spine. She arched off the mattress, her fingers snarling in the sheets as a gush of fluid left her body over his hand.

“Beautiful, Aine, just beautiful. That felt good, didn’t it?”

She lowered her body to the bed again, melting into the mattress and into his continued manipulations of her inner walls. Blearily, she peered down her body at his messy fox-dark curls and intense storm-cloud eye, watching her every motion, hearing every gasp and muffled moan. 

“It felt good enough that you nearly ran away from me there. I can’t have that.” His voice was a purring rumble of need, and Aine whimpered her submission and desire past the gag, pleading with her eyes.

She hadn’t quite believed him when he’d said he had some past experience dominating a partner; he was such a perfect submissive himself, and true switches were rare enough that Aine had been certain he’d be only just  _ passable _ as the dominant partner for a change. 

But this wasn’t the sweet, kind, eager-to-please Ilya she had known for months. 

This was a new Julian, and the implacable desperation he focused on his patients and research was now turned in around itself, channeling from his soul into working wonders of sensation within her flesh for his own enjoyment. She could feel it, nearly see it, a haze of promise, of pleasure, of pleasure’s promises and the promise of pleasures. 

His fingers  _ dragged _ out of her, and she shivered from her toes to her scalp as the stretch was removed in a steady pull. She whimpered, and he chuckled, the sound dark and intimidating in a warm, exciting way. 

“Now, now, Aine dear. You know the best rewards are only found through patience.”

Aine growled through her gag, her tongue tasting the traces of herbs and unguents his day’s work had left on the fabric, and then she gasped again when Julian tossed her knees over his shoulders in one quick motion that somehow left her feeling weightless. That feeling of flying crashed to the ground as two long-fingered hands flattened themselves over her bounding abdomen, pressing her into the mattress as Julian’s wide-opened mouth latched to her lower lips like a barnacle, like a leech, like a curse. Aine’s hips jerked upward, the involuntary motion abruptly halted by Julian’s hands holding her down to the mattress. She began whimpering and shaking as another orgasm started building from the depths of her core, stoked by hard-sucking lips and prodding, flicking tongue. 

She’d known he was good with his mouth; she hadn’t realized he’d been holding back all these months. 

He sucked and nibbled every centimeter of her folds, systematically random and calculatedly precise. His nose and tongue prodded and bumped her clit and opening, agile and firm and soft and everything she needed. His breath gusted hot and harsh and left her shaking before trickling in chilling rivers that forced guttural groans from her throat. 

He held her on the edge of oblivion for darkness-would-only-know how long, and when she was more desperate and needy than she would ever have thought possible, she slung her head up from the mattress to stare with begging desire into his thunder-dark eye. His fire-blossom curls were sticking to his forehead, but she almost couldn’t believe he was actually sweating. It seemed so effortless, the way his mouth was turning her into a puddle of quivering hormone-riddled curves and twitching fingers and toes. His tongue pressed into her, hard, the tip curled  _ just right _ , and she exploded.

Waves and gusting winds, thunder and rain, tides, and the call of the moon: her mind was lost in sensations that would have required libraries stocked full of eloquent tomes to even begin to express them. Her thighs trembled on Julian’s shoulders, and Aine realized:

He wasn’t stopping.

His hands had shifted while her mind broke under the force of that orgasm, and now his fingers were prying her folds apart at the top of her cleft, granting him ever more access to her flooding center. His tongue writhed, wriggled, prodded; his nose pressed and dragged and bumped; his teeth scraped and nipped and tugged.

He’d tell her later just how long she’d lasted or had not lasted, but before her legs were done shivering from that climax she was falling with a muffled wail into the next.

And the next….

….

Her mind returned in flashes: a kiss just below her belly button, a soft caress of damp fingertips over a knee, a flicking lick to her collarbone, picking and plucking behind her head, untying the gag. She turned her head with twitching muscles, seeking his eye, and he met her with a smug grin. Her head was on his lap, and the heat beating against her cheek told her how needful he still was.

He pulled the saliva-soaked gag from her mouth, dabbing with drier sections at the corners of her lips to make sure she wasn’t rubbed raw. He hummed a little, sounding self-satisfied at the state he’d put her in, and she gave a half-hearted growl of mild annoyance. Surely he wasn’t done yet. His brows rose behind the sweat-soaked fringe of his hearthfire hair; would he take the bait?

“Did you growl at me, girl…?”

She growled again, challenging him with a hungry glare. Somehow, being fingered and tongue-fucked within an inch of her life had only made her want more. She would take him for all he had, and he would give her this.

He’d started it…

An answering flash lit his stormy eye with lightning, and his hands were hard on her waist as he flipped her off his lap. Her heavy hair, violet and mauve locks bound in multiple bands of leather and linen into a plume that would have ended near her knees were she standing upright, thumped beside her to the mattress and she landed on her hands and knees. She kept growling, encouraging him by this playful defiance to do more, to push and take and give and - 

His hand snagged an enormous twist of her plum-and-grape-toned hair around the level of her shoulder blades and  _ tugged _ , pulling her head back and forcing a deep arch into her spine. Her growls faded into a hungry gasping whimper, and she felt slickness painting the insides of her thighs, wetness left from her blackout orgasm minutes before and fresh gushing at the sheer dominance of Julian staking his claim on her hair. His shins planted themselves over the backs of her calves, pinning her lower body to the mattress, and she shivered when Julian bent over her. The beautiful contrasts of his sweaty abdomen and hair-speckled chest rubbing along her back raised goosebumps along her flanks and around to her breasts where they swung heavily beneath her. His breath was hot against the shell of her ear, wet and thick as his lips brushed like feathers against her skin. 

“You needy thing. You’ve already come a half-dozen times, girl, and you still think you can  _ demand _ more? How much more, then?” Fingers dug like talons into her ass before clawing down to her dripping folds, stroking, pressing, beckoning, and demanding once more. “How much more will you give me before I decide you’ve had enough?”

Aine sucked in a harsh breath as three? four? fingers stretched her open; she mewled her answer in a purr of pleasure: 

_ “Everything.” _

Julian growled, and Aine melted as his needy rumble dissolved into the words she was beginning to suspect she’d sell her soul to hear every night. “Good girl. Give me everything. That’s my good girl.” His fingers grew even more insistent, curling and pressing on the too-sensitive spot behind her pelvic bones, beckoning her orgasm rhythmically, and she could no more have resisted the coming storm than a seaman could halt the tide. 

“That’s my good girl; come for me, now. Now!” 

She fell, her arms giving out. Julian’s grip on her hair eased her collapse but his fuzz-scratchy chest pressed into her shoulder blades and pinned her to the mattress in warmth and a heaviness that felt like home. Her toes curled and stretched, her thighs shuddered, and she felt her muscles clenching and flexing around his fingers. She moaned and gave a sharp cry when Julian’s teeth suddenly clamped on a band of muscle where her neck met her shoulder. He snarled and growled as his teeth left bruises in her skin; she whimpered and whined and flexed her spine, begging for deeper-harder-faster motions.

He released her all at once: hands leaving her soaking cleft and her tangled hair at the same time his mouth abandoned the stinging welts on her neck. She began to push herself onto her hands, intending to turn around and  _ take _ more from him, but his fingers were hot and harsh on her wrists suddenly, startling a gasp from her throat. 

“You said you’d give me everything, Aine. Did you mean it?”

He pulled her hands behind her back, and one set of long fingers wrapped both her wrists in command. The other hand combed and gathered her hair, bound with multiple ribbons to contain the waves that fell past her ass. With confident motions, Julian began wrapping her hair around her wrists in place of his fingers.

“ _ Yes, Julian!”  _ Aine melted into the mattress, the pressure on her tingling breasts more than welcome as her thighs shivered and her ass bobbed a little as she deepened the arch in her spine. 

“Good girl. Give me everything.” 

His cock was hot against her wetness as he dragged the tip up and down her slit, and then he pushed inside, rough but perfectly angled to immediately stoke her pleasure to dizzying heights. He had used her own hair to capture her wrists, and now he used it as a handle as he fucked her senseless.

“Aine, fuck, so fucking wet. Such a good girl, damn!” 

She could only utter short, sharp cries of pleasure as he pounded into her, tugging on his handful of her dusky purple hair to pull her that much more onto his shaft. Her shoulders twinged, but it wasn’t too much; if anything, she wished (with what few brain cells were left to her under the onslaught) that there was some way he could manhandle her more, dominate her more, give her  _ more _ .

His free hand smacked her ass suddenly, and she lurched forward a little, writhing slightly as that same hand clawed its way in reverse along her flank and up around her front. It slithered under her breast and flattened with fingers spread over the middle of her chest. She could feel her heart racing against the strength of the pressure he exerted, pulling her body up until he could hold her close against his chest. The wavy curls and crinkled strands of his chest hair were titillating against her shoulder blades; she melted as he held her close to his body and thrust into her in erratic jerks and pushes. 

He nipped her ear and growled against her neck.

“Give me everything, Aine.  _ Just. One. More.  _ _ Now _ _! _ ”

An avalanche of shivers, clenching, pulsing, and shudders consumed her; the gentle moan from Julian’s throat as he climaxed within her spasming walls was a song all its own, a delicate contrast to the demanding harshness he’d shown her tonight. 

“Good girl….” 

She panted her pleasure to the suddenly quiet bed-chamber, smiling for the simple happiness of having pleased her lover….

**Author's Note:**

> self-promoting plug - if you like what I did with this, please consider reading some of my other ish - most of it is for Lore Olympus, some is for other webtoons. 
> 
> Hope you liked, and please feel free to leave commentary - I have mods on for my own anxiety security, thank you for understanding. 
> 
> Ta for now, and enjoy the night!


End file.
